


missed time

by dizzy



Series: alittlewavey fic-a-thon [9]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010 Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 05:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20688473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Dan comes back from India and goes straight to Manchester to see Phil.





	missed time

There’s exhaustion carved into every bone in Dan’s body, exhaustion from days and days of sleeping in a too-hot room with a too-loud little brother waking him up constantly, from listening to his parents fight and shout at him, from jetlag and plane rides and bus rides and the train. 

Exhaustion from missing Phil. Maybe that one’s the worst, because all the others are things he’s used to but… missing Phil isn’t yet. Having a Phil to miss in the first place - that still feels brand new. 

That’s the only reason he could find the energy in himself to do this, to go from plane to bus to train but now there’s only three stops left between himself and Phil and that’s a better kick of energy than Starbucks could ever offer. 

*

He always tells Phil that Phil doesn’t actually have to meet him at the train station, but he knows he’d be gutted if Phil ever didn’t. 

It’s become a ritual of theirs. Dan actually comes to visit enough for them to have rituals. The thought punches into him as he steps off the train. They’ll see each other and wave, hug if they’re feeling particularly forward, walk to their Starbucks and sit on their Starbucks sofa and mostly just do that thing where they catch each other’s eye and grin and then try to look away and then do it again some more. 

The idea of walking anywhere makes Dan feel woozy with the amount of sleep he hasn’t had but his feet carry him into the station and he hears Phil’s voice calling out his name. 

Then he does the most awful, stupid thing. 

He cries. 

“Dan,” Phil says softly, in that shocked-sweet voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“Fuck.” Dan rubs furiously at his cheeks, shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong - Phil.” 

Phil’s eyes are leaking too, just a little. Phil blinks fast and gives him a sheepish look. “Remember what I told you when we watched Wall-E? You can’t cry or I’ll cry.” 

“I just-” Dan starts. 

Phil finishes: “Missed you.”

Phil’s voice sounded just the same on a video sent all the way through the internet signals to that struggling wifi connection in India. 

Dan throws his arms around Phil, and Phil holds him back just as hard. 

*

They finish making a minor spectacle of themselves in Manchester Picadilly. 

“Starbucks?” Dan asks. 

Something flickers across Phil’s face. “Oh, sure. We can.” 

“Did you not want to?” Dan asks. He’s not sure why but insecurity flares hot. He likes their traditions, but maybe Phil doesn’t even really think of them like that. Maybe Dan’s doing that weird presumptive thing again-

“I just missed you,” Phil says, and cuts right through the spiraling voice predicting doom in Dan’s mind. “And my parents aren’t home?” 

“Phil, you fucking horndog.” 

“It’s not that,” Phil says. “Not just that. I just… don’t want to share you right now. I had to share you for weeks and weeks, I want you all alone. I got stuff to make pancakes at home.” 

The lingering insecurity melts away in an instant. “Yeah,” Dan says. “Let’s go home.” 

*

He falls asleep on the bus ride to Phil’s valley, head resting on Phil’s shoulder. 

He doesn’t know the point at which his eyes close and stay that way but he does know when he wakes up, Phil’s arm is around him and Phil’s cheek is against the top of Dan’s head. 

*

“I don’t think I have the energy for pancakes yet,” Dan says, dropping his bag on Phil’s floor. 

He throws himself on the bed, face first into Phil’s pillow. 

The bed dips beside him and he feels Phil’s body tucking alongside his own. “Want to take a nap?” Phil asks. 

“Does twelve hours count as a nap?” Dan asks. “No. But also, maybe.” 

Phil laughs. His hand starts to rub circles on Dan’s back. It’s a testament to how tired he is that he doesn’t even get hard. 

(Okay, a little bit. But that barely counts.) 

“Okay,” Phil says. “Nap time, then.” 

“You too?” Dan asks hopefully. 

“Unless you want to be alone.” Phil’s hand stills a bit. 

Maybe he’s got his own little voices of insecurity. 

“No,” Dan says. “I’m fed up of being alone.” 

And he is. Not just in the sense that Phil wasn’t physically with him, but in the way that even surrounded by his family - the people he thinks ought to make him feel more loved and accepted than anyone else does - he just felt like he was on an island by himself. 

He hates the feeling like he can stand in a room full of people whose blood he shares and feel like they don’t know the first fucking thing about him. 

But Phil does. Phil knows so much about him. Phil looks at him and he really sees Dan, all the shit parts and all the parts Dan thinks might be good once the shit parts stop taking everything else over. 

“Good,” Phil says. “Because I’m fed up of not being able to cuddle you.” 

Dan turns immediately and burrows himself in Phil’s arms. He doesn’t even care that it makes him look needy and maybe a bit pathetic. It’s exactly what he wants, the real version of what they only indulged in for a few seconds at the train station. 

He always sleeps well when Phil’s holding him. Now is no exception. 

*

Dan has no idea how many hours pass between the time he falls asleep and when he wakes up, still laying fully clothed on top of Phil’s bed. 

Phil’s wearing different clothes now, soft pajamas. The bottoms have red checks and Dan remembers Phil wearing them the first night Dan stayed over, back in October. 

He was petrified to touch Phil then, high off the success of a kiss but unsure about how much else he could get away with asking for. He’s not so afraid now. Not here, with Phil. He gets to leave some of the fear behind when he escapes to Rossendale. 

Phil’s asleep. He thinks it must be night and the idea that he slept half his first day away feels sour in his stomach but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He goes to wee and washes his face and uses some of the mouthwash sitting out. 

He’s hungry too, but food isn’t nearly as tempting as Phil. He changes out of his jeans and doesn’t bother putting anything else on, getting back into bed wearing only his pants. 

He could probably go back to sleep if he really tried. He’s always been able to sleep an obscene amount. But he’s done wasting time. He just lays there for a bit, just staring at Phil like the creeper he really is at heart. Pale skin and black hair and a face softened with sleep and Dan feels the heaviness of the trip just dripping off of him. 

*

Eventually Phil wakes up. 

The first thing he does is whine a little and roll over, pushing his face into the pillow. “Why are you staring at me?” 

“Because you’re pretty,” Dan says. “I like looking at you.” 

Phil peeks one eye out. “Look who’s talking, mister.” 

“Aw.” Dan grins. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You know I do.” Phil’s voice does that thing where it goes deep and Dan’s stomach flips immediately, butterflies tingling up his spine. 

Dan inches his face in closer to Phil’s until their foreheads are touching. “You should do something about that, then.” 

“Should I?” Phil asks, mouth curving into a tiny smile. 

Dan just nods, and before he has to do any more coaxing, Phil’s pressing that smile into Dan’s mouth. 

*

Dan won’t say it to Phil - or, fuck it, maybe he will - but he dreamt about this so many times while he was away. 

Phil’s hands on his body. Phil’s mouth kissing him all over. Phil’s weight over him. The press of Phil’s cock against his stomach, the line of hardness that serves as physical proof that this is a boy that _wants_ Dan. 

He feels like some kind of perv being so obsessed with not just sex, not orgasms, but someone else wanting him. It’s like, so fucking narcissistic, but he craves the feeling of Phil’s eyes on him and the ability to make Phil react like this. 

It’s the least wrong he’s ever felt, when Phil is whispering things like, _“Can I?”_ and _“Really?”_ and _“Inside?”_ in the most awed voice Dans’ ever heard. 

It’s even better when Phil’s babbling that sort of praise while he’s got a finger inside Dan. The lube smells like sugar and fruit and there’s too much of it, like there always is, but Phil’s accidentally hitting the right spot at least every third or fourth push inside with his fingers and Dan’s already seeing stars behind his eyelids. 

“Phil,” he says, pleading for something he can’t even put to words. 

Maybe he doesn’t need to, because Phil kisses him just like Dan was craving, and rocks his body against Dan’s until Dan can feel the bluntness of Phil pressing against him. Phil’s making little thrusts, ones that won’t really get him inside, but Dan loves it. He loves every bit of foreplay and exploration and the ways they’re learning each other’s bodies. 

It makes up for every other time he lay naked with someone whose body he thought he wanted and just couldn’t. It makes up for every time he tried to close his ears to his father’s unknowing cruelty. Every kick and punch and shouted slur dissolve into the nothing that they deserve to be, because he understands who he is and what he is when he’s taking Phil’s dick like it’s what he was born to do. 

He digs his nails into Phil’s shoulders and returns every kiss with a kiss of his own. It hurts a little, and then it feels so good, and he likes the way they make the bed thump against the wall. 

They’re so good at this. He feels good at this, when he’s with Phil. He feels like every part of himself he’s buried away suddenly bursts to life in a spectacle of vibrant color and a swelling symphony of music. It’s cheesy, whatever, he’s getting his goddamn brains fucked out by Phil Lester, he can be cheesy if he wants to be. 

There’s no part of it that isn’t perfect. He has a dick in his ass and whispers telling him how loved he is in his ear and the hot sweaty skin of a boy he wants to be with for the rest of his life glued to his own. It’s messy and beautiful and he’s definitely going to come rutting against Phil’s stomach, unable to even get a hand between them. He wouldn’t really need it anyway, this is enough; the friction of the hair under Phil’s belly button rubbing against the exposed head of his cock, the push of one to the other every time Phil thrusts into him. He tries to hold back because he wants it to last longer but he never really can and he makes a mess between them whining in Phil’s ear how fucking good it feels. 

The after part is almost better; Phil slows down for Dan to recover. Dan doesn’t really need that many minutes, but he loves feeling Phil’s impatience from the inside out. Because Phil tries, he tries so hard, but he can’t help moving tiny little bits. Dan feigns overstimulation just to see how long it takes before Phil’s hips are twitching forward. 

As soon as Dan tells him it’s alright, Phil’s fucking in again with a deliriously relieved groan. Dan gets to feel it all the way, the thirty seconds or so it takes before Phil pushes all the way in and stays there. Dan clenches around him as he comes just to try and make it a little better. He thinks it works, maybe. 

He tries to look at the condom when Phil pulls out, which is maybe a little disgusting but Dan thinks it’s hot to see it filled with all that stuff, to fantasize about it in him. He squeezes his own sticky softened cock again just to feel another shudder. He could probably go again in a few minutes, but he doesn’t really want to. 

“Are you alright?” Phil asks, as he holds his arms open for Dan. 

He usually asks. Dan usually has a beaming wide smile or some kind of sarcastic answer for him. 

Tonight, he’s just looking at Phil, because Phil’s got a strange expression on his face. “Are you?” 

“Yeah,” Phil says, and tries to force a laugh. 

Dan lifts an eyebrow at him as if to say, really? 

“I just.” Phil frowns. “I missed you.” 

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I missed you, too. But why’s that making you sad?” 

“It’s stupid,” Phil says. 

“So? Tell me.” 

“I thought about you having to leave again in a few days.” Phil uses the hand not attached to the arm around Dan to rub at his eyes. “It’s like I spent so long missing you that the idea of missing you again so soon makes me feel ill.” 

Dan wants to say that’s dumb, he wants to argue that Phil needs to focus and enjoy the time that they’re together, but he doesn’t because in his mind that’s the sort of thing he needs Phil to say to him. He’s the one that makes dumb remarks and Phil makes him feel better. 

So if right now he needs to make Phil feel better, he’s gonna fucking well try. “Maybe I just won’t go home,” he says. 

Phil laughs. It sounds a little thicker than it should. “Don’t even joke. Or I really won’t let you.” 

“I really don’t want to,” Dan admits. “Do you know how literally miserable it was being with my family for that long?” 

Phil holds him even tighter. “Were they awful?” 

“They were…” Dan struggles to find the words. “How they always are.” 

“So, awful.” 

“There were moments that weren’t.” He thinks about laughing so hard he almost cried with his mum. He thinks of helping his brother beat a handheld game level. “But mostly, yeah. Awful.” 

“I just can’t wait until you’re out of there.” Phil kisses the top of Dan’s head. 

Dan’s not sure he’ll ever get used to how protected he feels when Phil does things like that. Everything is so cozy, so warm and safe, that he does end up falling back asleep. 

*

Pancakes are an unholy mess to make. 

“Is this even worth it?” Dan asks. There’s batter everywhere and he’s not sure they added the right amount of anything. “Like, pancakes are great and all, but at what cost?” 

“At what cost?” Phil sounds traumatized. “I might have to rethink this entire relationship.”

Dan immediately pouts. “Really? You love pancakes more than _me_?” 

“You’ve never been to IHOP,” Phil says. “Don’t make me choose.” 

Dan goes back to stirring. “Guess you better take me one day so I can see what I’m going to lose you to.” 

He knows it’s just a joke but jokes like that still make him feel so… weird. Bad. They remind him of those fragile feelings he wants to forget he has. 

But Phil never leaves him in that place for long, and now is no exception. He feels arms wrap around his waist and Phil’s chin dig into his shoulder. “I do love pancakes, but you definitely taste better. And pancakes can’t give me kisses back. You’re my number one.” 

“Fine.” Dan melts back into the embrace. “Pancakes can be your side ho. I’ll allow it.” 

He likes the way it feels when Phil laughs against his skin. “Thanks. Best boyfriend.” 

Dan grins down into the bowl of probably-awful batter. Maybe everything else is a steaming pile of shit, but at least he’s got this.

**Author's Note:**

> [read and reblog on tumblr](https://alittledizzy.tumblr.com/post/187799793350/missed-time)


End file.
